The Infection
by dancrossbow
Summary: Four survivors struggle through the horrors of the Infection in several cities; they come across various perilous locations, as well as allies and hordes of hungry zombies. The story is broken up into three parts, and it is in the viewpoint of the main character through his journal, in which he recalls his experiences. Thanks for reading; please comment and give advice on my work.
1. Part One - A Long Journey

**The Infection**

(A Fanfiction-Crossover Hybrid written by dancrossbow)

(To view a drawing, enter the address after you are in your Google Drive (or after you've entered the Google Drive address))

**Part One - A Long Journey**

******Intro: The Infection**

What happened? In only two weeks, our race was destroyed. But what caused it? An infection. A virus with no cure. The outbreak was unstoppable, uncontainable. Our only hope was to fight it off. But could we stop it? Could we survive?

First, we have to make it to the hospital. There may be medical supplies we can use to our advantage. And if we're lucky, my team and I may possibly find a few surviving patients in there. If we do, we will get them out of there as soon as we can - if there aren't any of the infected tearing that place apart.

Man, I hate the infected.

**[Picture 01 - CITY MAP]** drawings/d/1QqDhrpjvcPIUESLZDw44IPgB7Nq2Ea9kI2FE7yODvWc/edit

**[Picture 02 - MED-PACK]** drawings/d/1ejvDDz1BsN-e-Cv6Wasi8THFFudY_6swUje6TzNMZjE/edit

**February 28, 2011**

It rained. A lot. We were supposed to move out today, but we couldn't get the Jeep running. Yeah, we have a Jeep. Well, we needed something powerful against those mindless monsters. But today - today is peaceful. So far. I'm writing in this journal, so if I survive all of this, then maybe someone will make a book out of it or something. Or if they find it, then maybe it could save their life. I don't know. But anyway, I have to go help the guys try to fix our ride. More later.

**Later -**

We didn't fix the Jeep yet. Nothing much to say, other than I wish I had my PSP with me. But I left it at my house in Missouri. I don't exactly know where we are, but I think we might still be around MO, since we are still in the stinkin' woods. Ah, darn. My pencil's fading. Hold on. There much better. Kind of, anyway. I'm getting tired, and it's getting dark. Good night, sleep tight, and don't let the zombies eat you.

**[Picture 03 - BioFOX]** drawings/d/1p8JfQR4zSCQX8Wv_t4fM5_U2dMIDIZhMdi4Fvv-ysIA/edit

**[Picture 04 - BioDUSK]** drawings/d/1aWamUGlbBSGlIGoh6ukLfYvHnwgW2KLV-RIjmOBfmVE/edit

**[Picture 05 - BioSNAKE]** drawings/d/1_LLytWOuTiL56PUgBiAl1fSHuMr9LYiEPoqK6pf3yw0/edit

**[Picture 06 - BioSHADOW]** drawings/d/12u-A11Ob7_sHc89YpF5-xfZtpB3zORGOfBcXaJaH-iE/edit

**March 1, 2011**

Oh, yeah, this is just in case you were wondering who was with me on this journey. Snake is my brother (his real name is Benjamin, but everyone just calls him Snake), and he's pretty cool, but really quiet, even though he is the leader, and a very good one too. Also there's Dusk (I heard his real name was Wes), a real tough guy from Alabama who - oddly - likes to play video games. Last, there is Shadow, and I don't know his name. Apparently he is really sneaky, but I think he's just short. Me? Well , everyone just calls me Fox. I think it's a pretty cool name, at least compared to "Boot", or "Newbie", or even worse - "Mighty Mouse."

**Nighttime, 3:24 a.m.**

I keep hearing these really creepy groaning sounds. I'm pretty sure it's zombies - wait - they're yelling now. It sounds like they are fighting each other. Wait. It stopped. Now there's chewing noises. Sick. We'll see what's left of it tomorrow. If there is anything left of it.

**[Picture 07 - MILITARY NOTE]** drawings/d/1GlBZpVkjhwi0lmWJkruiiQAPl-uRD7AHAm7nSKCW3qU/edit

**March 2, 2011**

Tired. Couldn't sleep. Snake was the first to get up, like always. Once the rest of us got up, he showed the remains to us.

"Ah, sick!" Shadow said over the noise of all the flies that had collected.

"Phew!" I clutched my nose. The only thing still there was a smashed skull with half a brain, one arm, no legs, and a caved in torso.

"That's not how I want to end up like," Dusk told us.

"We better stay on guard," commanded Snake. "or we will end up like that." So now we have guard duty. Three hours on, three hours off. At least it gives me more time to study these creatures, if I see one.

**[Picture 08 - OBSERVE]** drawings/d/1uxohgye-IKGXGbyM5uHRXjvfAgM9TWzCj_wrVdEoJjg/edit

**[Picture 09 - HOSPITAL]** drawings/d/1eT5RJ9SmUTdpU78Q2FiYNF05_8NDS9h2KJa_stMozqo/edit

**March 5, 2011**

I was told by Shadow that we're heading out later, whether the Jeep is repaired or not.

"Where to?" I asked nervously.

"The hospital," he replied. Oh no. Not good. But - we have to get medical supplies, so better now than never.

"also," he added, "we are looking for more survivors. If we find any, we're bringin' them out." I hope I survive this one.

**Later -**

We're at the hospital. Well, the gate anyway.

"How do we get in?" I asked.

"Shadow," Snake commanded. Right then Shadow walked up to the locked gate and fired a single 9mm handgun round right into the darn thing. Then after Shadow stepped aside, Snake kicked that poor old gate wide open.

"Wha-" I begun.

"Move it," Snake instructed. So we did. Once we got next to the door, we waited for Snake. I looked around, trying to stay cool. Where are they? Why aren't they fighting us? I'm getting tired. I'll write more later.

**[Picture 10 - RATION]** drawings/d/1uL_0qgTeI1Q77RvQfJe8TYTy3Fu_VWJgkgx5CRDrrWo/edit

**Afterward - Inside The Hospital**

We're inside the hospital now. It's worse than I would have thought. Just about every few seconds, a zombie pops out from nowhere.

"There's one!" I yelled as I saw a zombie.

"Aah!" Dusk yelled as he took down the unprepared zombie with his bare hands.

"Wow!" Shadow said.

"Careful!" Snake exclaimed. "Don't get yourself killed!"

So we searched the area, and in the first two floors all we found is this:

**[Picture 11 - FOUNDSTUFF] drawings/d/1ZfHnFQUL2sM0e1kbBlsdHLcV3yACc4GbfR1sJ5IJX0Y/edit**

- Pretty good so far, but I heard rumors that the upper half of the building is the worst. I've already been through enough, what next?

"Get to the elevator!" Dusk yelled. "Run!" he yelled as a horde approached.

Once we made it to the elevator, we all crammed inside and waited until the doors closed. Once the doors opened again we looked out, but saw nobody. Strange. We searched the area and I even had time to draw a map. Here's how it looked like:

**[Picture 12 - HOSPITAL MAP]** drawings/d/1_Dgv-z0h4zWobcpeuO3Dg1I7Fmbs1XlhRaLNAnpcAN0/edit

- But we did find something. Once we looked at the computer in the center of the room, we found a file on the computer. It looked interesting, so I thought I'd print it.

**[Picture 13 - PRINTED FILE]** drawings/d/1uAj9PzppX3OT2zq-OZYJo_yvDJIz9heo2qNKFI2Wwio/edit

"Let's go, Fox," Dusk said. So right now we're going down the hallway. Pretty boring. I'll write more later.

**Later - Hallway**

Right now all I can think about is food. I can't even remember the last time I ate. We have to save all our "rations" because - you never know when the next time we find a meal will be.

"You hear that?" Shadow asked.

"Hear what?" Dusk was uneasy, and Snake looked real serious. Not a good sign. When Snake looks that way, you know it's bad. But heck, once we got close we found out that it was really just a little girl crying. If you want to call it crying. It was more like moaning with a few whimpers here and there.

"A survivor," I gasped.

"You'll be okay," Shadow said. "Now come with us before -"

"Wait!" Snake interrupted. "Don't be so certain. Turn your flashlights off." I don't know why he said to turn our flashlights off, since we could barely see each other, but we did.

Suddenly the girl stopped crying.

"Are you alright?" I asked, softly putting my hand on her shoulder, which I now deeply regret. She turned her head to face me, and what I saw I knew was not good. What I saw was a -

"Zombie!" I shouted at the very top of my lungs. As soon as I said that my whole team, including me, unleashed our weapons on the "Witch." Oh, and I don't mean a stupid Halloween witch, I mean an enraged zombie with red eyes and claws a foot long. I was running away from it while I was shooting, to try to get away from its hideous face (and to try to survive, of course).

"Stop shooting!" Dusk yelled at me. I stopped, and noticed that I was the last to stop firing.

"Sorry," I said. I looked on the ground and found one dead Witch.

"No time to waste, we're heading up to the roof." Snake said.

**[Picture 14 - WITCH]** drawings/d/1c7Y_kP8_QkdPZuh9qztMTDVvrPy1Cru1ojb8G7BbLVE/edit

**Afterward - Hospital Rooftop**

We've just made it to the roof of this "Abandoned" Hospital. Oh, and hey, who would have guessed - Shadow's real name is Andy. I found out when we were talking. Also Dusk doesn't like being called Wes. He likes his middle name, Allen, more, but we just call him Dusk. Anyway, Shadow found a note that looks interesting. I hope you can read it, because it's pretty messed up.

**[Picture 15 - WRINKLED NOTE]** drawings/d/1_fBPO_OmB6W4Q0RN_R8BtIrlA9HHJvhTMkPjG1h3gzc/edit

- At least we know there are more survivors. Well, there was, at least. If there are more of us, I hope we find them.

"When are we getting out of this death trap?" I asked.

"Soon," Snake replied. "We've found all we can. Next we will go to church." Everyone was silent for a while. We finally had some rations (we shared a Cheez-It box) and we settled down for the night. It's been a long day. I still hope I survive all of this.

Personal Note: Don't give up. You can survive, even in a horde. But remember, you aren't invincible.

**March 6, 2011**

Today's the day we travel to the church. I've heard that the church's attic has more supplies, but we'll have to find out.

**Later -**

We just started heading towards the church. It's not going to take nearly as long as from our base to the hospital, but it is still boring. So to pass a little time, I made my own game. I hope nobody thinks it's stupid, but I made it in about five minutes. We just passed the abandoned apartment. It's scary as heck around here, and you wouldn't believe the sights we encountered.

**[GAME]**

**[Picture 16 - CHURCH]** drawings/d/1rvWrwXykF2z7XpUbPUouW8QM5Z2kP8_nsPwZC4oeQqk/edit

Personal Note: Reload. An empty gun is no match against a hungry zombie. Stock up on ammo, too.

**Afterward - Church**

Well, we made it. The church doesn't look so bad. It isn't destroyed, and it doesn't even look as creepy as everything else around here. But once we got close, we found the door halfway open. Strange. What could lie inside? We had to find out. So Dusk cautiously opened the door all the way. We stepped inside and looked around. Even the inside of the church was still in tact. Snake walked across the hallway while the rest of us looked around. I wonder where those monsters are. I hope they don't attack us when we -

"Guys!" Snake yelled.

"Oh no," I said. we rushed to go find Snake, fearing the worst. We found him in a hallway, but there were no zombies. Instead we saw him gazing into a room. He was talking, but to who? Could it be a -

"Men," Snake told us once we got there. "I'd like to introduce you to an old friend." Just then a black man stepped out of the room. He was about thirty years old, with a white button shirt (the sleeves were rolled up to his elbows) and a long red tie wrapped around his neck. The last thing I noticed about him is that he was bald.

"Meet Luis," Snake said. We greeted him and then sat down to have a meal of canned ham and lima beans, gross. Luis told us about himself, where he grew up, and how he survived. It was pretty interesting, I have to say.

Snake told the group that Luis was his friend in the military. I was also in the military, and I too had friends, but - they died in an explosion. I don't really want to talk about it right now.

Anyway, we are heading out tomorrow morning. We are going to the lake, to try and get a signal from the rumored radio. Hopefully we get out of this cursed town.

**[Picture 17 - LUIS]** drawings/d/1Ud0OKDLMsF6SRSowq7EnY_wVvqfwLtQY1k_qh_ucTsk/edit

**March 7, 2011**

I woke up with a real nasty headache. I couldn't sleep most of the night because those monsters wouldn't shut up. Sorry about the bad attitude, it's just my head's killin' me. Luis noticed me clutching my head, because he asked me, "Headache?" I said "Yeah".

"Pills here!" he shouted before tossing me a jar of pain pills.

"Thanks," I said. He replied with a "No problem."

We had a breakfast of canned beans, and then we headed off to the lake. We're stopping by the gas station on the way to look for food, water, weapons, and gas. You wouldn't believe how much gasoline we need every day. We use it for lighting fires, Molotov cocktails, and driving vehicles, which we don't have. But anyway, that's where we're headin'.

**[Picture 18 - GAS STATION]** drawings/d/1X8nuvOVtOApvQwRiTNkAZql_qdTQOlwSYHx9v0WkqQo/edit

**Later - Gas Station**

We arrived at the gas station at about 8:00 a.m. I was looking for a way to get in. It was locked; were we just going to shoot our way in like last time? Shadow was walking up to the lock, when Luis said, "Wait!" He produced a key from his pocket, and unlocked the door. Inside we couldn't find much. There was a bunch of broken glass, and most of the shelves were empty. We managed to find a few candy bars and three shotgun shells, but that was all. We were all disappointed as we headed for the lake.

**[Picture 19 - BOATHOUSE]** drawings/d/1cll04aZM7cNVTahYc7ioEudDmtgUUzG9F2boIl1FrAo/edit

Personal Note: Be smart. Use your head. Cut off theirs. Use all the strategies you can think of against them.

**Afterward - The Lake, Final Destination**

This is it. Our Final Destination. We make it out of here, and we're home free. Well, hopefully, anyway. We're going to try to get a signal from the radio, and get the heck out of here.

We made our way into the boathouse, looking for the radio (and more supplies). We found a shotgun, assault rifle, pipe bomb, 2 minigun turrets, and finally the radio, which looked prehistoric. We turned it on, but all we could hear was crackling. Then, I heard a strange sound off in the distance. They're here.

"It's a horde," Luis said. Suddenly we heard someone talking on the radio.

"Hello? Is anyone there?" a man said.

"We are," Dusk replied.

"Who is this?" the man said.

"A group of five survivors," Snake told the man. "We are requesting an escort out of here."

"Copy that. We are sending a transport boat out to pick you up in around thirty minutes. You may have to fight them off, but hang on while backup arrives." Right then we knew we had a chance of survival, but we knew we had to fight for our freedom, and that it wasn't going to be easy.

"Here they come!" Luis yelled.

"load your weapons!" Shadow shouted I grabbed the automatic shotgun, while Luis went with the SMG. Dusk chose the sniper rifle, and both Shadow and Snake had assault rifles. While Dusk and Snake manned the turrets, Luis, Shadow, and I defended them. Shadow was guarding Dusk on the ground, and Luis and I protected Snake on top of the boathouse. We looked out over the hills, and II have to say, there are a _lot_ of them.

"Fire!" Luis yelled as the hordes engulfed the boathouse. Snake and Dusk fired their miniguns, mowing down all the undead in their paths. I fired my shotgun, and man, that thing had kick. But I had to reload pretty soon, too. As I was reloading, I noticed on the ground that Dusk and Shadow were struggling to fight them off. The hordes were getting thicker, and some zombies managed to climb up the boathouse. "We lost Dusk and Shadow!" I managed to yell after the hordes covered sight of our comrades.

"Let's go get them!" Luis responded.

"How? There's too many of them."

Give me the pipe bomb!" I reached inside my backpack and withdrew the pipe bomb. which I have to Luis. "Here goes nothing!" Luis yelled before pressing the activation button and throwing it as far as he could in the field. The bomb beeped slow, and then gradually gained speed in the beeping. Suddenly, every zombie turned and ran towards it. Then, the bomb blew up. Hundreds of them were killed, which have us some time. Luis and I jumped down, and we saw Dusk, alone.

"Where's Shadow?" I asked desperately.

"I..." he began. "I don't know. There was too many of them." Suddenly we heard banging, like something in the closet. We went over there, and I opened the door. A dead zombie fell out, along with Shadow, who was badly wounded.

"Are you okay?" Luis asked.

"I think..." he replied.

"Here," I said. "Let me heal that for you," as I gestured towards his bloodied right arm. He thanked me after I finished bandaging his arm.

"Hurry!" Luis yelled. "We have to get back to -'

Suddenly a disgusting vine-like object grabbed onto Luis' torso and yanked him back rapidly.

"Luis!" I yelled. I ran after him, hoping he was still alive. I found Luis being - choked by a zombie. I heard Luis try to say something to me, and I couldn't understand him, but I knew what he meant, so I immediately dropped my shotgun, switched to my 9mm, and fired. Before I fired, I noticed Luis was actually being choked by the vine thing I saw earlier. It turned out to be the zombie's tongue. As soon as I hit the stupid thing it exploded with green smoke. It must've been a smoker when it was a human. I yelled after Luis. I heard him coughing, and after a few moments he popped out of the smoke, apparently dazed. I asked if he was okay, and after he said yes we headed back to the boathouse.

By the time all five of us were on the roof, the hordes started up again. Only this time there was only one turret we could use. And every zombie that got close enough was trying to climb the boathouse.

"When's the boat coming?" Shadow asked.

"Five minutes!" Snake said after looking at his watch. Suddenly we heard gunfire, but it wasn't our own. It was off in the distance.

"Boat!" I yelled.

"Reinforcements!" Dusk shouted.

"Survivors!" Shadow exclaimed.

"Aww, yeah! Victory!" Luis also shouted.

"Zombie!" Snake yelled as he shot down a zombie that leapt towards Luis.

"Wow!" Luis said. "Sorry."

"It's okay. Come on, we have to make it to the boat!" Snake ordered. Wait. I hear something behind -

**[Picture 20 - PIPE BOMB]** drawings/d/1IeRo78GYHY7abxqsLUdV3CULPxTxcJ_5NtUa25_Si-o/edit

**[Picture 21 - RESCUE BOAT]** drawings/d/10lqbiLMBt3QnUPt2Q8nU4m8jrmWICPyZvNwEcgb7PwI/edit

Personal Note: Turn your flashlight off and try to sneak past witches.

Ouch. My head's pretty sore. I think I just got knocked out. But hey, at least I'm still alive. Yep. I'm still here. Anyhow, where is here? I don't really know. It's dark in here - wait. My hearing's coming back to me. I hear... a boat engine! We finally made it! Yeah! Ow! My head. Sorry, I can't think of what to wright. I need to recover.

Well, I guess this is the end of my journey. I have to say farewell - to whoever is reading right now (hopefully not a zombie). We all hope that there will be a refuge over those hills. As we gaze at the sunset, we all feel something. Deep down we all feel a little hope in our hearts: among all the stress, pain, and despair, we feel as if we might just make it; we may just survive.

**THE END**

_or is it?_


	2. Part Two - The Living and the Dead

**Part Two - The Living and The Dead**

**March 9, 2011**

Crap. I really thought it was the end. But it isn't; it's only the beginning. Darn it. Well, we just got off the boat and walked up the hills, and guess what we found. A downtown city - wait for it - destroyed and infested by zombies. Yeah, can't wait to get down there. Oh, and here's what it looks like:

**[Picture 22 - DOWNTOWN CITY MAP]** drawings/d/1cK-kM-5ugulyOnsYaFR4dCbm8gQcGab08VIoBx05XpU/edit

**Later -**

We've just set up camp. Looks like tomorrow is going to be nasty. But we survived the other town, so maybe this one won't be much harder. We'll just have to wait and see.

Oh, I didn't get a chance to tell you about our new allies. Now there are seven of us (that's two more men, yes!). There is:

**[Picture 23 - FRANCIS]** drawings/d/12YFqkaIwVxBT1KHaq28ngU9xN2Qr6EoLgqP1WvXIyd0/edit

Francis - A biker dude. Nothing much to say about him. Other than he's rough, tough, and he hates pretty much everything.

**[Picture 24 - TOM]** drawings/d/1PAAtnZ1Yrw0ehRITdfKI4mNHm0xPENP7g458NLMWDoY/edit

Tom - A well-organized guy. This is a person you can trust in a time like this. He kind of reminds me of someone... I don't know.

**March 10, 2011**

I just woke up. It was raining all night. We have two portable tents, but they don't do hardly anything against the wind and precipitation. Anyway, we are heading down to the town in a few hours.

**Later -**

I guess we're heading out now. Hold on. What the? Oh no. A horde. Time to lock and load. But... We're low on ammo. I hope we -

**March 14, 2011- Entry: Snake**

It was terrible. They... they took him. The horde was unstoppable. We couldn't fend it off. Alas, we lost a comrade. In the end of it all, when we thought we'd escape, there was no sign of him... No sign of Fox. This was the largest and most aggressive horde I - and my team - have seen.

**Later -**

After the attack, my team decided to find our bearings and move on. We spent hours looking for Fox, but it was hopeless. I've decided to continue this journal. It's the only thing I have left to remember Fox... to remember not just a survivor, but a brother. He dropped his journal in the fight, so after I saw he was gone I picked it searched for him for four days, and now I decide I should write. It's about time to start a fire and make camp. We will stop by the river. Tom and Dusk get the first watch. Shadow and Francis with the 2nd. Louis and I take the last. An hour and a half for each watch. I'm getting hungry. It's going to be mushrooms and frogs we found near the river.

**March 15, 2011**

My head's throbbing. Once I woke up, I took a pain pill, but I'm still in pain. I'm tired anyway. The team will head out when we're ready. I'll write more tomorrow.

**[Picture 25 - PILLS]** drawings/d/1Y92lG_iwhtVspkiYEzBzqiMXRIiNGXppma_mJEIS2wA/edit

**March 16, 2011**

The last two days have been tough. No mercy from the undead. A lot of rough terrain. Fox is still gone.

**Later -**

I've had a lot of time to think today. It's surprisingly quiet. Anyway, I came up with a prototype for an assault vehicle. It's just an idea, but it would help us out a lot if we could find the parts to build this. Just an idea...

**[Picture 26 - PROTOTYPE VEHICLE]** drawings/d/1lx5dLWalMu5kZrFHcXfamDM2XKYSh91XwuN7dhBdfsY/edit

**[Picture 27 - SOUNDWAVE]** drawings/d/1y4Hdv4-sdra1fbKxYXiD1fZjwy_7l8Kj8EgHmnaWo4A/edit

**March 17, 2011**

As Tom and Dusk were out looking for a good place to shelter for a break, the rest of the group heard something.

"What was that?" I heard Louis mutter. "Is it a -"

"A lawn-mower," I finished.

"Well who would want to mow their lawn in this type of situation?!" Shadow said. Just as we heard it start, the sound suddenly died out. A thick, piercing cry filled our ears. Then, once again, the sound ended.

"What should we do?" pondered Francis.

"Move towards it. Get Dusk and Tom first. We will examine what remains," I commanded. I decided to check it out. We'll see what we find.

**Later -**

It wasn't good. A lawn mower had been used to decapitate a mangled body lying in a corner of a small garage. We couldn't define whether it had been living or undead - the skin that was left was cold and clammy. It was slightly pale. The lawn mower was clogged with - of course -a head, or what was left. Blood dropped from the walls. A heavy odor soured our nostrils. We couldn't find any useful items. I ordered everyone to head out. I was sure the body wasn't Fox because it was wearing overalls, not Fox's military jacket. I can't help feeling that Fox was here. If he was...

Personal Note: The cake is a lie.

**March 20, 2011**

We continued our search for the last few days through an infested town. If Fox was here, he would set out towards the small city just 16 miles from our location. The group decided last night that we should attempt to move in that direction.

**March 21, 2011 - The City**

The group saw the first sign of the city at about 15:00 (15:00 = 3:00 p.m.) There was a motel and a small coffee shop. No coffee, unfortunately. We headed down a road that led to a highway. Francis was relieved. "About time we found it," he said. I explained where we were going. Right now we are at an intersection taking a break. I'll write more when I can.

**Later - The Houses**

We headed out towards a group of scattered houses. The houses, or at least the exteriors, were in great condition. "This is an ideal location to set up a safehouse for a while," commented Tom.

"And a great place to find Fox," I added. We looked around.

"Look!" shouted Dusk. "A campfire!" We all turned to see a few pieces of charred, burned wood stacked and arranged in a traditional-style campfire position. There were holes in the ground, as if a tent had been set up.

"Hmm, that means there's gotta be a survivor," Shadow queried.

"Yes," I answered, "and there's footprints in the ground going South." We headed towards the footprints, when we heard the sound of rustling.

"Down," Dusk told the others. We got on our knees. The sound stopped.

"Snake?" a familiar voice questioned. I looked around. I couldn't tell who it was.

"Shadow, was that you?" I asked him.

"No, not me," he answered. I was confused. Then I saw a figure rise from the bushes. It was carrying a .45 caliber pistol and wearing a beret. And out of these facts I knew. I rose to my feet. Tears stung my eyes.

"Fox!" It was him. My teammates followed me towards him. He was cut and scarred, but alive. And now I can say, out of what I've endured, my greatest companion and comrade - my brother - fights alongside me until Z-day is over - forever.

**March 21, 2011- Entry: Fox**

Well... I'm back. I thought I wouldn't survive. I'm tired, bruised, and scarred. I need rest. I'm going to write more tomorrow.

**[Picture 28 - PEOPLE WITH ME]** drawings/d/1wC-QE4lcOFvC3dMwPcjtygM4QFLmxnjCM0tbenNyxe8/edit

**March 22, 2011**

I feel much better. The guys gave me a few extra hours of sleep, so I am well rested. So anyway, I read over what my brother had written in my journal while I was gone, and I have to say, he is a good writer. But I noticed something. It fit exactly to _my_ story. I told the crew about what happened to me, and they told me how they followed my tracks to find me. Here is my story:

We had to start fighting immediately, so I didn't have time to finish the sentence I had on the tenth of March. They surrounded us in seconds, clawing and screaming as they tried to overpower us. All of a sudden I tripped and fell down a steep hill. The rocks scraped me up pretty good, but I knew I had to make it up the hill before the zombies killed my whole team. It took me awhile to get up, but once I did I was shocked. I saw nobody. There was a lot of dead zombies, but my comrades were missing. Even my journal was gone. I searched for awhile, and I only found a couple of stray zombies (which I killed).

Then I realized something. We were going to head over to the city today. Oh no. Maybe they already left. But - I can't stay here. I have to keep moving.

So, I headed west. I went through a lot of woods and really steep hills. Once I exited the woods, I saw a few houses, along with a trailer park and a prison. I found a lawn mower (luckily it had gasoline) and some canned fruit. Then, I heard a strange sound behind me. Without thinking, I pulled the cord to turn on the lawn mower, and I swung the mower around with all my might, chopping the monster up into little pieces. He tried to grab me, but he had no chance. I swung one final time, beheading it. Blood stained the walls. I looked down at what was left. I saw shredded overalls.

I heard another noise off in the distance, and I knew I had to get out fast. I don't know which way I went, I just ran. A few miles later I found a group of houses, so I decided to stay there for the night. The next two days I looked for supplies, but found nothing, except survival food. It was mostly just plants, and a squirrel I killed with my handgun. I cooked the squirrel after I skinned and gutted it, then I ate the whole thing. I had to set up a campfire, because the ovens in the houses were either broken or removed. I sheltered in a portable tent just outside of one of the houses.

The next morning I decided to head south. Just as I made my way away from the houses, I heard rustling. Crap. I hid for a minute and thought. Could it be?

"Snake?" I asked. I heard voices. Then I knew it was them. I rose to my feet, still holding my gun that I thought I would have to use.

"Fox!" my brother said. My squad came forward and we went back to the houses. They let me recover, and here we are, at the end of my story.

**March 24, 2011**

Well, today we are making our way to the supermarket to get some more supplies (hopefully food, water, batteries, flashlights, glow sticks, guns, knives, ammunition, sleeping bags, etc.) and look for ways out of this "Downtown Deathtrap". We're thinking of a pickup truck with a trailer attached, so we can hold all of our supplies, but we only need enough supplies for a few days, so we can get to a refugee camp until the end of the infection. Until - until we find a cure. Or until we kill every last one of them.

**Later -**

We just made it to the supermarket. Looks pretty beat up. There's a lot of the undead around here. Some of them don't even notice us, and when they do... they don't even bother attacking us. It's kinda like - like they're staring through us.

You would think that with all the movies I've seen I'd be ready for an attack or something, but there was nothing. Not a sound, except for the cool wind passing by and of course, our slow, steady breaths along with the thumping of our hearts.

Just before we were done searching the area, we saw something. "Um... guys," Luis slowly said, pointing to a nearby streetlight.

"Oh, no," I said in response to what I saw. I saw a man, not a zombie, a man. He had hanged himself on the streetlight.

"He must have known they were coming," Francis announced.

**Afterward - Supermarket**

Just got in the store a few minutes ago. My squad searched around or a couple of minutes, and I decided to draw. I wanted to get the image right, so it took me a couple of minutes, but here it is:

**[Picture 29 - ZOMBIE]** drawings/d/1fTRZ5x4o4EeqZ_85jM9UIZUY5gRIHJr0gkcbs-g0hcE/edit

- Anyway, my team didn't find hardly anything, except a box of crackers, some old newspapers, and a bag of rice. We made a fire, then boiled the rice, which we ate with the crackers.

"We won't last long without finding shelter," Luis said.

"He's right," I commented. "It's getting dark." So after our meal we agreed to look for a safe house. After walking a couple of miles, we found a house that looked to be in good shape. Tom and Francis cleared the neighborhood of any infected, while Dusk, Shadow, Snake, and I were boarding up the house with plywood and nails. Luis was outside starting a fire.

After warming up from the fire, we went inside, locked the door, and went to bed. Finally! A good night sleep after a long day. Well, hopefully.

**Nighttime, 4:47 a.m.**

Woke up to the sound of zombies tearing apart the barricades that we set up just a few hours ago. We had to kill them before they broke in, so we stumbled over to the "zombified" and "eliminated the hostiles".

"Be quit, flesh addicts!" Francis yelled as he blasted the remaining undead into little pieces.

"Give it a break, Francis," Tom said as he was about to lay down for the night.

"Yeah," Shadow continued. "Those monsters' brains probably have the viscosity of yogurt, so screaming at them won't help anything."

**March 26, 2011**

I haven't written for a couple of days now. We are just heading east, to the school. Soon after the infection started, it was turned into an Immediate Disaster Relief Shelter, or I.D.R.S. The hundreds of people who took refuge there suddenly disappeared; they probably got wiped out.

So anyway, we just passed the supermarket, and we are getting close to passing the gas station. I'll write some more once we get to the school.

**Later -**

We have made it to the school, and it's pretty much deserted. Snake found a sign taped on the front of the school doors. It read: "No Chance of Survival". The paper was really beat up, and the handwriting wasn't much better.

"'No Chance of Survival'," Snake read. After examining the area and having a quick meal of stale biscuits, the team and I headed into the school.

"Pretty freaky," Dusk whispered softly.

"Pretty _dark_," I commented. "Let's turn our flashlights on." So we turned on our super strong LED lights that are attached to our guns by duct tape, rubber bands. or whatever other materials that we could find that is long, thin, and hopefully durable. We searched the area and found an ammo crate with a couple of shotgun shells and assault rifle clips, but not much more. In a few minutes we will leave the school to move east, towards, well - I don't exactly know. None of us do. We just hope that -

"Oh, no. He's gone," Luis said. "They took Francis!"

"What?" I was confused and dazed at what happened; it was so quick. There - there was a horde. They broke into the school like hungry dogs bent on destruction and chaos. It was a nightmare.

I was firing as fast as I could, but it was useless. We had to run. I didn't look back until I burst through the school's doors. I waited for everyone to rejoin me, but Francis was gone.

"Where is he?" I asked with sudden fear that our teammate was dead.

"I saw him following us," explained Tom. "He's gone by now. Come on guys, let's keep moving. The horde's right behind us." We ran for what seemed like hours, taking breaks here and there. Once we get to the road, we will follow it to the next town, and if we're lucky, we will find survivors - and someday - maybe even a cure.

**[Picture 30 - NO CHANCE]** drawings/d/1QhkKLgg5IATLKUKSThZgFV07Alnr52I9JgzlpxEU_ss/edit

**[Picture 31 - PROPANE TANK]** drawings/d/1L0TRj0hOo1I5af5mcmtJUMj6O7AQ5C3RoS-0EtsPvDU/edit

**March 27, 2011**

Have you ever felt as if you're being watched? I don't know; probably just my imagination. But still - there's something about this road...

**Later -**

Snake said we should go look for new equipment at some local electronics store. We've just entered a new gate. So instead of a big town with a bunch of stores and houses, we're near the woods/country land. Err... whatever you call it. So by the way, there doesn't seem to be as much zombies as the other - What... the...

"What is that?" Snake questioned.

"I have no idea," I answered. "But I think it's -"

"It's looking at us," Luis interrupted. Right then the creature lunged at us, and I barely had time to pull out my combat knife before the monster tackled me, sending both of us sprawling down a steep hill. The thing was on top of me, trying to dig its teeth into my flesh. I had lost control of my knife (it was only a few inches away from my reach) and was now trying to shove the creature away from me. And then - I saw its face.

**[Picture 32 - MONSTER]** drawings/d/1PW_CSN2f-KyUSNO_wUdURtdoNcCRR-P9w5LFIhI1eA0/edit

- It was ugly, no doubt. It had pale and clammy skin like any normal zombie, but this one was different; It seemed like just skin and bone, and the little demon crawled on the ground, where they can strike at you when you aren't looking. And suddenly... it bit me. I let out a hoarse cry of pain, and I grasped my knife with my hand and I thrust it into the creature's throat. It was instantly dead, but its mouth was still dug in my left arm. I groaned in pain as I ripped out its teeth from my flesh. The I cleaned my blade and made it up the hill, clutching my arm.

"What happened?" asked Shadow in shock as I rejoined my friends.

"It's dead," I replied. For a second they were relieved to know that it was done for, but as soon as they saw my arm, the group feared the worst.

"Oh no," Luis whispered. "This doesn't mean -"

"No," Dusk interrupted. "He's not - he won't..." he started to break down. "You can't die, Daniel," he finished, addressing me by my real name.

"I'll be fine, Dusk," I said in a saddened voice. "I just need rest."

**Nighttime, 2:33 a.m.**

So after I got wounded Tom patched me up with a medkit, and we finally got to the electronics store, where we set up camp. We didn't find much, other than a broken radio, some money (about $127), and an IPOD Touch - with no battery. Man, if it could only work, then it could pass the time...

**March 28, 2011**

It's getting worse. My arm stings like heck, it's oozing you don't want to know what, and the _flies_. They keep on buzzing and swarming like the pests that they are. Honestly - I don't know if I'm going to make it. This may be the end.

**April 1, 2011**

I haven't been able to write for a few days because of my sickness. Also I have been kept in quarantine, in case... never mind. Anyway - I've been throwing up a lot and my arm is swollen to the size of a softball. I can't write anymore today; my arm is killing me - literally.

**[Picture 33 - COUNTRY MAP]** drawings/d/1xtiDpxpLjTrcj25SKgVsIUdg55gcVGvvImHtd5iyAPI/edit

Personal Note: Find a safe house! You can't fight forever. Also, find more survivors. Get all the help you can.

**April 3, 2011**

I've survived a couple more days. I don't know how much longer it will take for me to turn; I can't even imagine becoming one of those things. They just rip each other apart. They have no pain, no mercy. All they do is kill.

I don't want to admit it, but I am beginning to feel like one of them. In only about a week's time, my pain was already numbing itself away. So when my nervous system was shutting down, I began to feel strange. Every passing minute seemed like an hour, and I began to become enraged - with the infected, the infection, or just myself was unclear to me, but I would find myself destroying some of our electrical equipment with my bare hands, until they were just big piles of twisted metal and wires, and I would look down to see my hands all bloody and mangled.

So you can see things aren't going too well for me. I think it's too late for my friends to find a cure. Well, I guess this is the end for me. I guess I couldn't make it out alive.

**April 5, 2011**

The virus has spread throughout my entire body. It's only a matter of days before I turn. I... I can't write any more today.

**April 6, 2011**

My team decided to go out on patrol - without me. They are still looking for any hope of a vaccine, but I think my body is too sick to recover from my disease, so it's close to worthless. I still can't believe I survived this long.

Besides me being infected, my team of six is doing very well. In fact, they've already set up a makeshift defensive base. Although it is a little crude, it's surprisingly effective as a one-time kind of fortification. Even though the fort has a small area (only about seven feet in diameter - just enough room to fit all of us, the campfire, and our few supplies together), it could most likely defend us against a horde with little to no problems. On the outside, there is a nine foot deep ditch surrounding the camp, and down there the group put very sharp wooden stakes around the fort. Last, we put up a six foot tall barbed-wire fence. That means there is only one reasonable way to get in or out of our base - the gate.

Well, I really should call it _their_ base. I'm still in quarantine. They lock the gate every time before they leave the fort or before they go to sleep. But this time... this time I have the key.

**[Picture 34 - MOLOTOV]** drawings/d/1HCb-wB71-Wdu_AzdDdvHkxHxZ1qOns4V8jPPuiQMJNw/edit

**Later -**

After I switched the gate key with a decoy (this was before they left, but after they locked the gate) it wasn't hard to steal the real key. Almost as soon as the group left, I unlocked the gate, went inside, and locked the gate back up. Now no one could get in or out but me - except if they broke their way through the steel fence/gate, or by getting ripped apart by the barbed-wire fence and wooden stakes.

So if you're wondering why I am locking myself in from the outside world, I have two explanations:

1)I'm tired of being treated like one of the infected. It's time my "friends" get taught a lesson about how hard it is to stand beingsurrounded by hundreds of hungry undead every night and not knowing if you might wake up the next morning to find yourself as one of the infected.

2)I'm afraid that if I wait any longer... the group will put me out of my misery. They'll kill me before I turn. Those are the reasons I've locked myself in here. Better safe than sorry. Better safe than sorry better safe than sorry better safe than sorry better safe than -

**Afterward - Fortification Gate**

"Better safe than sorry, better safe than sorry..." I whispered to myself continuously.

"Fox?!" Snake appeared at the entrance to the gate. "What are you doing? How did you get in there?" He was more worried than he was confused. Then he grabbed the decoy key, inserted it into the lock, and tried to turn it - but to no effect.

"What the -" Snake was shocked.

"It's useless!" I exclaimed. "I swapped out the key with a counterfeit. Now only I can get in or out of the fortification. I wanted to lock myself in here ever since... ever since I received the _infection!_" I spat out that word like it was a disease - oh wait - never mind.

"I - I think we've found it. I think we've found the cure."

"Wha - No. No, it's not possible. There _is_ no cure!"

"Snake!" Tom ran up to my brother with Dusk's hunting rifle. He whispered something to Snake that I could not hear, but I could vaguely read his lips. As Tom was handing my brother the rifle, he said to my brother: "It's loaded."

"I'm sorry, brother," Snake said before raising the rifle, aiming, and pulling the trigger.

**[Picture 35 - THE CURE]** drawings/d/1aqOR0CmxfcSQySHUpw5-OHbIa61Unk0BslyyTsVknhY/edit

**April 9, 2011**

What happened? What have I become? If we had waited any longer... I could have actually become a zombie. I'm just glad to still be alive. My arm is still sore, but - I know it's healing. The cure is really working.

Speaking of the cure, how did we get it? Well, once the group left, they found a working computer in a nearby electronics store - the same one I mentioned on the twenty seventh of March. They discovered a downloaded file on the computer that suggested that Dr. Jon Ross, from Revolutionary Science Lab and Bio-Medical Research, found a cure during his research on biological mutation.

Once my team figured out the correct materials needed for the cure, all they needed to do was (this part was happening while Snake was talking to me) insert the cure into a tranquilizer dart, put the dart into Dusk's hunting rifle, and then shoot me with it.

After I fell unconscious, they managed to lock-pick the gate open. They tended to my wounds and let me rest. My friends saved my life; I'll never forget that.

**April 12, 2011**

I've finally recovered. Today we are moving out towards the farmland to try summoning a rescue of some sort. We might just make it out this time, but you can never be too hopeful. Anyway, right now we are packing up all of our supplies from our fortification and - we have a long walk ahead of us. Better get moving.

**Later -**

We've set up a small but useful camp. A few minutes ago the team and I entered a swampy area a little bit off from a lake, and also near the woods. Tom and I went hunting, and we caught a fairly large snake and a few frogs. After we cooked them up, we ate them. The frogs were fine, although the snake was just plain tough. Soon we will take three hour long shifts to guard the camp while our companions rest.

**Afterward - Swamp**

So Tom and I were on guard duty, while our companions struggled to obtain as much rest as possible. The first two hours held no surprises, save for a few hillbilly zombies who became quick friends with our ammunition - instead of eating brains they ate lead.

Now about twenty-eight minutes before the end of our shift, things got a little weird. These "swampy mudmen," an uncommon infected with muddy camouflage, crept up on us in the swamp-waters, trying to confuse us by flinging mud at us and leading other zombies behind them. Not that a good ol' machete swing couldn't do anything to their rotten necks.

**April 13, 2011**

I've just had the most bizarre dream last night. I was running through a series of oddly shaped rooms - don't know exactly why, I just was - when I came upon a sturdy metal table. And on the table gently sat a miraculous wonder - lo! it was _cake!_ Chocolate frosting covered chocolate cake - a rich, decadent delicacy I thought I could never live without. Covered with ripe red cherries (about eight) in a circle around a single lit candle in the center, it seemed to just beg: "_eat me_."

Suddenly, seemingly out of nowhere, a computerized mechanical female voice startled me out of my daydreaming inside of my dream. "Congratulations on completing your tests." In my dream I think the "tests" refer to whatever I was doing in the previous rooms, but in real life I think of it as the journey of events on which this book/journal accounts.

"Although your companion (maybe my weapons, supplies, or friends?) has been a faithful ally, it (or they) cannot accompany you any longer, and must be euthanized. Please escort your companion to the emergency incinerator before any cake is received." What Give up my weapons, supplies, or even my companions for a chocolate cake? I was just about to make my decision and try to escape, and for some reason I felt as if there would be an epic boss-battle or something - but just then I woke up.

Trying to explain the situation to Shadow was useless. All I got was a blank, cold stare and no response. Then he said quietly, "Keep this to yourself. Tell no one."

**[Picture 36 - CAKE]** drawings/d/1C1Fr0DZCAZXn4R3cveAoxNeh-aWNXlBicy8hJ8k883Y/edit

**April 15, 2011**

We should reach the farmland by tomorrow. But first we will pass by the water tower, to use our radio to call a rescue of some sort, so that we can get the heck out of this nightmare. The water tower is the highest point in the area, and since there is such bad reception anyway, it's our best chance of contacting anyone.

**[Picture 37 - WATER TOWER]** drawings/d/1tV3Y2i13XMPhNpg94rM7_tNybLXLwsyVDyKAbr-x3uc/edit

**Later - Water Tower**

We've just reached the water tower a few minutes ago, and we scaled the rusty old tower with a snail's pace. It seemed like years before we made it to the summit. We tried to turn on the radio, but it soon lost power. Everyone's hopes were crushed, but nobody spoke.

Then Luis broke the silence: "Who forgot to put in the spare batteries?" There was a long void of quietness, then Dusk shuffled through his backpack, and finally acquired two bulky, ancient batteries in the palm of his hand. Then we felt relieved.

After Dusk installed the batteries, Shadow told Dusk sarcastically, "Allen, now don't be a derp."

"Hey," Dusk replied, "how am I supposed to know to replace the batteries, you're the one carrying the radio."

So once we heard something on the radio other than static, we stopped talking to listen.

"What is it?" I wondered.

"Can't quite make it out," Tom listened intently to the radio. "Wait," he spoke softly. "Do you hear that?" I couldn't hear much between static, but it was definitely a rescue.

"Can you hear us?" Snake was contacting help. After a confirmed "yes" we described our location and told them to pick us up early the next morning at the Farmhouse. I really hope they come - there was a lot of static interference - otherwise we're dead. Well - undead.

**[Picture 38 - FARMLAND]** drawings/d/1bVh0nxSO-ef_cEwG4K7ofUbldJuoAJImWvu2iL1TVZ4/edit

**April 16, 2011 - Farmland, Final Destination**

I've experienced many disasters during the events of this journal - some of which I could not write of - but none of them can compare to the devastating horrors of the rescue at the Farmland.

We arrived at the farmhouse around 5:30, before sunrise. Since the rescue wouldn't get us until 7:00 or 7:30, we decided to barricade the house and obtain some much-needed rest. At approximately 6:15 a.m, I was awoken to a peculiar banging sound on the glass window of the bedroom we were huddled in.

"Snake!" I whispered desperately. But before I said anything, he was already up. We awoke the others, then quickly escaped the farmhouse to find swarms of undead engulfing the entire Farmland. I ran out of shotgun ammo on the way here, so I had to use my trusty Colt .45, but as I reached for a fresh clip, I found nothing. Just then my worst fears slipped through my mind of having no ammunition - I realized that this may be the end.

Then - it came. It was the strongest, most terrifying thing I have ever seen. These "Tanks" are built like machines, with huge muscles that can withstand incredible amounts of firepower.

"Concentrate your fire!" Dusk commanded.

"I'm out!" I responded.

"Here ya go," Luis walked up to me, before handing me an antique (but still usable) ninja katana. Right then I felt strength flowing back to me - the kind of strength that makes you want to survive, no matter what stands in your way.

"Don't shoot," I told my companions. "I got this." The tank noticed me in front of the other survivors - sword in hand - and without any sign of fear on my face, the monster went after me in a rage. I kept my ground. As soon as it was closing in, I ran on the side of the nearby tractor (yes, like a ninja) and leaped off. In mid air I swung the katana with all my strength, before returning to Earth with a soft landing. The beast's body fell with a tremendous _thud!_, although it was missing its head. I sheathed the bloody blade as the waves of undead unexpectedly died down.

After a few moments of dead silence, Luis pointed towards the sky, yelling, "It's here! The rescue's here!" As we raised our heads towards the oncoming helicopter, we knew this was the real end; we knew that we _will_ survive. Once the chopper landed, we began boarding the vehicle. Luis and I were the last to get in, when the pilot announced that there was only enough room for one more passenger.

I was shocked. "What? No! Can't we do something -"

Luis knew that one of us would have to stay behind, so he simply told me: "Go."

I realized I couldn't change his mind; I replied, saying: "It has been an honor."

"The honor has been mine." Then I withdrew a Molotov from my backpack, and handed it to Luis. I tried giving the katana back, but he told me to keep it. "Oh yeah," he added, "remember to spell my name with an 'o'."

We took off, and the helicopter pilot saluted our friend before flying westward. I glanced back to see our comrade being approached by three tanks. He threw the lit Molotov, before the monsters rushed in - I couldn't watch any more.

We are heading towards a new life; things will never be the same. Goodbye, my friend. Goodbye, Louis.

**[Picture 39 - TANK]** drawings/d/1emJmxi-GL4tCwZrCzI17VA1yw_FixnvOvXD3Uk68lZk/edit

**THE END**

_or __IS_ _it?_


	3. Part Three - The Way Home

**Part Three - The Way Home**

******April 17, 2011**

As soon as we exited the helicopter, we were greeted by a number of survivors living in the area, including our rescue pilot, lieutenant Seth W.

Seth is a fine man; he's the only one who really respects our group, and Snake, Seth, and I can compare since we've all had military careers. He is but a few years younger than me, but a skilled pilot and one of the city's supply gatherers.

**[Picture 40 - SETH]** drawings/d/1KWA3iNcRkY1prVzNq3Fy-zjWsqIa0eP8CUARd0u-TCQ/edit

- We've finished unpacking our supplies, and we are ready for the first hot meal we've had in ages. The food isn't great, but it's still better than what we've been eating for the past few months. But if someone comes back victorious with a fresh kill from the woods (deer or rabbit), then that's the real deal.

**[Picture 41 - SOLDIER]** drawings/d/1xdj7Q2JqRFuE5d-bnso8GsYU9UpRJrAOVb-VpAwzaU/edit

**April 20, 2011**

Someone was killed the other day. No accident, either. The soldiers were testing everyone for any trace of the infection, and apparently the cure that we discovered is impossible, and that my arm recovered from natural causes. So we're curing the infection - one bullet at a time.

A soldier lifted up the infection-scanning device to a middle aged man's eye (signs of the infection appear first in the eyes) and he activated the button. After a few moments of anxiety, the instrument gave a mournful beep. The man was dragged harshly out of the line we stood in and was kicked to the ground on his hands and knees. Before anyone could protest, a soldier fired a round into the back of his head. Afterward another soldier torched the body with a flamethrower. Nothing but a pile of ashes remained.

**Later -**

Seth informed me that yesterday's event was called a "Reaping" - if there is but a hint that you _may_ have the infection, they will terminate you on sight. All it takes is a sniffle and you're dead.

**April 21, 2011**

The soldiers confiscated everything we had the day we arrived: all of our weapons and ammunition, along with the few rations we had, and other supplies like binoculars, the radio (that was probably used by cavemen), our combat/hunting knives, etc. The only things we have now is the shirts off our backs. They only issue equipment for hunting parties - maybe a bow with a couple of arrows, a knife if you're lucky. So every one of us has nothing, but at least we have shelter and food; so we're safe... I hope.

**April 24, 2011**

We gathered for lunch around the fire this noon, and we expected to get bombarded by questions about our journey by a host of curious prospectors. But this time we were surprised to find out we were the ones listening. Dmitri Vladof, a former Russian who immigrated to the U.S. in 1994, told of how he and his comrades escaped certain death, and how he ended up here. After his more-than-fine tale was over, he informed us of an event in which only he and his men had experienced - and lived.

Dmitri's story (as told by Dmitri Vladof):

_Me and my comrades were in open field. No cover. We had - maybe fifty rounds - between the five of us. Fog was thick as heck. We knew they were close. We could _smell _them. We waited few minutes - then, they came._

_They were relentless. We killed many, and after while, it seemed to be over. No, not over. Far from over. We heard a sound just beyond fog. It was devastatingly solemn - no ordinary zombie; was not a human... but a sobaka (dog) - the sound was a howl._

_Before I knew it I was on my back, and just as quickly my men reacted - or I'd be dead. We barely saw it come through fog, but fortunately my comrades shot the "hound" fast enough. We heard more coming, so we ran. We were lucky enough to make it here, though prison is better on days. At least I have my comrades._

**April 25, 2011**

Nothing really to write today; same old, same old. I still can't stop thinking about the "hounds" Dmitri describe yesterday. I know dogs have similar anatomies as humans, and they can contract some of the same diseases as us, but I didn't think that the infection was one of them.

**April 26, 2011**

I finally had enough time to walk around the entire fortification and make a map. I can't give full credit to myself, because my team helped me organize it. This is approximately the setup of the camp:

**[Picture 42 - REFUGEE CAMP]** drawings/d/1S8M-HTayyWrov5wTOLYOc3M7TMT8hpvXejHDFzilWcY/edit

**April 27, 2011**

It was cool this morning with a light breeze. Although I wasn't necessarily cold, I shivered; goosebumps covered my arms. I felt strange - something wasn't right. Gray, menacing clouds began to form throughout the day. We heard distant noises that we knew were infected, which only lowered our morale. Is this the end? Is this the calm before the storm?

**[Picture 43 - DESERT EAGLE]** drawings/d/1f-gMphQjdeXOHBqMWo4WyMa_qI4SDO00PHgcnm0AS9s/edit

**April 28, 2011 - Camp Stronghold, The Last Stand**

Dark clouds still hung in the sky from yesterday. As Dmitri and his men and I, plus my companions, ate our lunch rations, we heard the same distant noises that we heard the other day. Seth grabbed some chow and sat next to me.

"You think they'll go away?" I nodded towards the sounds.

"Not for awhile. But don't worry, this is normal. They can't get in anyway, due to the walls surrounding the camp." Seth seemed fine about the situation, so I calmed down. For the next few minutes we ate in silence; we had nothing to talk about. As I listened to the pathetic cries of the undead, I thought about this disease. How did it kill so many people? What do the zombies want (besides brainz)? What will we do next?! When will they - ?! Tornado sirens began blaring throughout the camp. Everyone was shocked for a few moments, until we realized that the infected had somehow managed to break in. We heard shrieks of terror from the camp's residents as we dropped everything we were doing and ran for the tents for what little supplies we had.

The company (my group and I, including Seth, with Vladof and his comrades) packed the belongings that we were allowed to keep into our backpacks: all available rations, a few medical kits, some clothes, and a few other less-important items - but we remembered... we had no weapons.

"What are we going to do now?" Dusk asked. "Kill them with our breath?"

"To the barracks!" Dmitri ordered. "The soldiers are off defending the camp."

"You heard him," Snake said. Let's go!" We came upon the soldiers' barracks in no time, and Seth tried to open the door, but to no avail. Everyone looked for an entrance of some kind, but none were found. All the windows were barred with either steel bars or strong wooden beams.

"We'll just have to do this the old-fashioned way," Dmitri beckoned for an enormous Russian to come forward. "Sergei! Open the door for us." Then Dmitri faced our way and said, "It would be most wise of you to get out of the way."

Tom pronounced: "Oh, let's move." Immediately after he saw that we were far enough back, Sergei rammed into the steel door with the entirety of his bulk. At the first strike, the upper corner of the door caved in. The next blow rendered the lock useless. Sergei "gently" nudged the door open.

We entered the room to find a few stashed weapons and stunningly plenty of ammunition. Dmitri suddenly explained with enthusiasm: "Weapons! Ha _ha!_ We will not die so soon, and not before a fight!" I pondered what weapon to bare, but -

"Here!" Dmitri interrupted my thoughts. He handed me a classic Russian-made AK-47, and I took it, nodding. It felt strangely familiar, and very comfortable. It was like an extension of myself, an expander of my skills. I felt through my soul the many Russians before me who wielded this same weapon type during every war since it was designed by Mikhail Kalashnikov in 1947 (wait, how did I know that?) "Honor your Russian heritage with this weapon. You can always trust the gun at you side!"

"Da!" (Yes!) I replied. And with our newly acquired weapons, we headed out.

"It sounds like they broke in near the greenhouses," Shadow announced.

"Yes," replied Yuri, an ex-Spetsnaz (special forces). "We should move there... it's our best chance." Just moments later frightened bystanders rushed past us, too oblivious to ask for help, and just as fearful of the undead as of the soldiers, for chance of being executed in this horror show of chaos. The soldiers were busy firing upon anything that ran, not taking the time to distinguish the dead from the living.

The hordes receded, and the soldiers maintained their defensive positions, a few squads covering the demolished wall, and a group of two watching the inside area of the camp, next to the greenhouses. Many of the soldiers began reloading - now's our chance.

"Run that way!" I pointed in the direction of our exit. We then began sprinting, not looking left or right, only focusing on our escape. As soon as we made it just out of the camp, a barbed-wire fence stopped us in our tracks.

A commanding officer to one of the squads stepped out into plain sight not a hundred yards from the damaged wall, and with his Beretta 92A1 handgun raised, declaimed, "You men get back here _right_ now!"

"Oh man," I shuttered in a shaky voice. I almost turned back, but I knew it was too late. But we were trapped on both sides - what would we do?

Dmitri gazed at me, and what his eyes portrayed paralyzed me. Though he spoke no words, I knew exactly what he was thinking. In a fraction of a second, I had a flashback:

"What? No! Can't we do something -"

He knew that one of us would have to stay behind, so he simply told me: "Go."

A tear stinged my eye. "Dmitri," I whispered.

"Niet," (No) he replied. "There's no other way." He then, with his right hand, proceeded to unstrap the holster located on the right side of his waist; he held the pistol grip. With his left hand he did the same to a curved sheath on his left side. He halted.

"Spasiba!" (Thank you!) I said. "For everything!"

"Pozhaluysta," (You're welcome) he replied. Then Dmitri Vladof produced: with his right hand, a tarnished yet undoubtedly durable Makarov handgun; with his left hand an ever-so-iconic agricultural crop-collecting (not anymore!) mickle sickle.

"Do svidaniya," (Goodbye) I concluded.

"Do svidaniya," he replied. "Prepare yourselves, men!" As Dmitri and his comrades stayed behind, the rest of us climbed over the fence. The following moments changed my life drastically.

"Za Rossiya!" (you can probably guess what that means) Dmitri bellowed as the Russians charged the soldiers with the kind of courage not unlike the Russians who stormed Napoleon's French forces during the battle of 1812; at this point the _1812 Overture_ was playing in my head.

As soon as all of my friends and I vaulted the fence, we started to run. We had no clue where we we were going; we just knew that we had to make it as far away from this forsaken prison as possible.

"Wait, hold on. Hold on!" Seth beckoned for us to stop. "I thought I heard -" his words were cut short by a distant bone-chilling heart-piercing flesh-ripping - howl... Dmitri's story...

"Run like heck!" Shadow exclaimed. As we fled, I scanned every square foot that I had time for. I regret looking back. I saw... they - they were just shadows, blending in with the trees. But I was certain they were hounds.

We soon exited the forest to emerge in a clearing. In the distance we could make out what seemed to be the water tower from the fifteenth of April; although we knew that we were not in the same area we were in a while ago, for we could also see the lake, as well as the woods and swamp.

"We should be safe out here," Snake said. "Let's set up a temporary shelter." He faced Shadow and Dusk. "You two, go gather firewood while Tom and Seth find some chow." The he told me to help him set up a semi-decent camp.

"What?! I am _not_ going back in there with those things still lurking around," Shadow protested.

Snake replied, "Just be cautious and stay together. But make haste! For the light is fading!"

**[Picture 44 - COMMANDING OFFICER]** drawings/d/1Rx5xY7Fq1h-aJ4uPoA529H8aN9JYVtKjJolPKgtrooI/edit

**[Picture 45 - ZOMBIE GUIDE]** drawings/d/1BoxmIjBZgmJ63GQTAU_-8tHYcOF5lJKucV4m4Mstvz8/edit

**Nighttime, 11:17 p.m.**

Everyone's asleep now. The fire is glowing hot with bright orange embers, and the growling will not cease. We ate some sour wild-berries and some protein-rich crickets (not half bad roasted in the fire), but other than that we had nothing to eat. I'm on watch duty now, but... I grow ever more tiresome as the minutes go by. I feel... like sleep is... taking... me -

I awoke suddenly, and I bolted upright, my heart racing in my chest. The fire was extinguished. Looking around, I found to my shock - I was alone. Everything had vanished: our weapons and supplies, the makeshift tents made of tree branches and leaves, all the food, and most importantly my entire group. Gone. But indeed I was still in the same place where I had fallen asleep.

The howling insured. There was at least three, maybe four areas where the sounds were distinctive, and of those locations, several packs of the hounds were snarling or crying out into the night. Anxiety and fear struck at me like a brick to the head (like the ending of Battlefield 3).

For no apparent reason, I just then noticed how bright the night was. I looked upward in the night sky at Luna (I mean the moon), and I noticed it was in the Full phase. The craters seemed to have aligned themselves in some strange pattern, but I could not make out what it looked like.

Without warning, the pattern transformed into a strange being, one whom I still could not recognize. It was dark, and seemingly translucent with the night sky and stars. It hovered gracefully downward, towards me.

"Who are you?" I managed to get out.

A feminine voice replied: "I am the princess of the night. Thus it is my duty to come into your dreams."

"Wait, this is just a dream? But it feels so real."

"I assure you that you are asleep. But when you wake, the thing that haunts you most will still exist."

"The hounds?" I questioned. There was a slight pause.

"Are the hounds really what frighten you the most?" I thought a little, and then I made my confession:

"I'm afraid of losing my companions. They're all I have left now."

"Everyone has fears," the princess said, "and everyone must face them in their own way. But they must be faced or the nightmares will continue." Then from the distance the creatures resumed their banter. The sound picked up in volume, and grew ever closer, and it came from every direction - they were surrounding me.

I felt an urgent sense of dread as the beasts encircled me, and before I knew it the entity with whom I spoke to was ascending towards the moon. The last thing she told me as she was rising was: "Face your fears!"

The hounds trapped me... but they did not strike. Instead, they strategically sent in a runt to fight me; they wanted to see what I could do. The runt paced around me, never taking its eyes off of me. Its mouth foamed, and its mangled teeth begged for fresh meat. The bloody, gruesome flesh of the beast smelled rank as death. Like spears its eyes were, piercing through my soul.

The hound's paws clawed at the ground, until its hind legs sprang out with speed. It lunged towards me, but nonetheless, I was ready; I had unsheathed my combat knife. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes (me and the hound of course), the beast pounced -

**[Picture 46 - SELF PORTRAIT]** drawings/d/1RHAst_tpK5tVpjHxpo2jFe6keVHunfylczPhdTyHjeE/edit

**[Picture 47 - PORTRAIT (BY SNAKE)]** drawings/d/18MwgvtjchH_FfXc9IVlwDAhF-cYOzW7PHGweqfy7bOE/edit

**Later - 11:32 p.m.**

I awoke (for the first time) abruptly, and I sat upright, but not before jerking a heaving mass along with me. I was distressed to realize what I had done, and I tried piecing together exactly what had happened.

I had fallen asleep on my watch duty - how could I? - someone could have died. And why did I have such a strange dream? But what was this cumbersome load, and why was it laying atop me?

"Fox! What happened?" Snake shot out from his makeshift tent towards me. Since it was my watch, I was stuck outside, but since I had fallen asleep, I could not wake the next watch guard. " Are you alright?" he continued.

I was stunned for a moment; then I replied: "Yeah, I'm fine." My companions all gathered to see the cause of the commotion. The fire, just like in my dream, had gone out, so we couldn't see the weighty bulk.

There were still embers, though, so Snake ordered Seth to rebuild the fire. He grabbed a nearby handful of dried tree branches and other tinder, and the fire crackled back to life.

I was mostly numb from tiredness, so I forgot the heaviness of the load. I kept thinking back to the peculiar dream that I had had earlier. I felt sad when I remembered the thought of losing my friends; I had already lost so many comrades before: Francis, Louis, and Dmitri with his men.

As soon as the campfire's enveloping light grew well enough to see clearly for a couple yards, the crew looked at me in utter disbelief.

I looked down and I suddenly noticed that I was gripping my knife, and my hand was thoroughly soaked with blood. A hound lay slain in my lap, with my blade piercing its thorax.

Yes, I had killed the beast in my sleep; though the runt in my dream was a figment of my brain, the dead hound was real enough, and had tried to maul me silently in the night.

"How did you -?" Shadow muttered.

"I -" I stuttered. "- I have no clue..."

**[Picture 48 - BOOMER]** drawings/d/1DCMBAJSp6zbuRNtvXkEUUT_NWSRZJelIT_TQ6ntcELI/edit

After taking it all in, we huddled around the warmth of the flames, wondering what our next plan of action would be. A few more minutes past, and I regained my strength; so I hauled the dead carcass over my shoulders and asked my brother: "What should I do with this?"

"Cast it into the fire!" he told me. "Destroy it!" Accepting his command, I chucked the dead beast into the blazing fire. The growling of the packs continued once more.

Tom said: "I believe they know that we've killed one of their kind."

"And they expected him to return," Dusk continued. I walked over to the now blazing inferno, and I knelt down. Since the hound was so enormous, as it sagged over the fire its hind legs and head overflowed onto the bare, hot-from-fire ground. Next, I withdrew my bloody knife, which I had earlier sheathed after I dug the weapon out of the corpse. Then, without fear of getting my hands dirty, for they were already distraught with gore, I begun sawing at the brute's throat.

"What are you doing?" Dusk insisted.

"Well," I answered as I concluded slicing away at the neck-flesh. "They did expect him to return, right?" I picked up the head by the left ear with my right hand, and I treaded over a little bit away from the camp in the direction of the howling (mostly near the woods).

I continued: "If they miss him so much, then they can have him back!" I then launched the head with all my might into the woods. My friends all smiled, and a few of them had a jolly laugh or two; I had successfully raised the group's morale.

But that morale was vanquished as the packs' howling ceased... They've found him. A secondary, singular report was heard, only this was not silence. It was a low, monotonous, deep, dark, deathly growl. I was the pack leader; it was the Alpha Hound.

**April 29, 2011**

The clouds from yesterday morning had moved on; it was a clear, bright, warm spring day. I didn't receive much sleep last night, surprisingly not from any noises, but from the haunting silence left from the hounds' pack leader.

My group gathered out few supplies after discussing what our agenda would be. We figured that a few of us could scout around and report back if there was any areas worth scavenging. Shadow and I would search east of the camp, while Dusk and Snake inspect the area north of our camp; Tom and Seth stood watch at the camp site in order to notify us if anything were to occur.

Shadow and I trekked east, and we soon came upon a long-dead tree, surrounded by several infected.

"Alright," said I. "We'll take them together. You go in slowly on the left -"

"No, I'm takin' 'em NOW!" he interrupted me as he dove into the thick tall grass and disappeared. I hardly had time to react before each and every zombie fell to the ground, one after the other; only one zombie remained. The zombie sat awkwardly propped up against the tree, until it spotted me. It stumbled over, trying to maintain balance. Once it got a running start, I prepared myself, lifting my cherished AK-47.

Before it was ten feet away, Andy (Shadow's real name) lept out from hiding and onto the zombie's back, with both of his arms tightly clasping its neck. With one fluid motion, he mightily pulled back and at the same time grabbed onto the zombie's head and twisted swiftly, breaking the zombie's neck and severing its spinal cord.

"Hey, that one was mine!" I spoke as I lowered my weapon. "And what did I say about taking them together?"

"Sorry," he answered with a grin. "I couldn't resist."

"Wait - that tree looks familiar..." I suggested the dead tree that the last zombie had sat against. We walked a little closer, until we noticed we stood in an open field. "This - I don't know. There's just something about this place." Next we spotted a shallow, wide pit. Its dry, cracking surface and bare, grass-less area suggested that indeed there was in fact a pond in existence at some point within the last few years.

Afterward, we came upon an old, once white garage, and some sort of vegetable or fruit bush, but it was now long gone. As soon as I turned the corner of the garage, I immediately froze. It all suddenly came back to me. Instantly memories flooded my brain; I remembered. I saw the structure, still mostly standing: it was my house.

**[Picture 49 - HUNTER]** drawings/d/1qtSWbuwoxO6MpYRhAwSxszFYT_EASbUnSB3vbh20tcw/edit

**Later -**

After reporting back with the rest of the team, we headed back over to the house to investigate further. Almost everything in the house had been ransacked, so the house is close to useless, besides shelter. We noticed also that there were some supplies that were arranged in a pattern that seemed as if someone had been here recently and left in a hurry: an LED lantern was still on, sleeping bags were crumpled in piles, and canned food was open and was only partially consumed (but we didn't want to risk eating it).

Tom turned towards me and asked: "So this used to be your home?"

"Yes," I responded. "Many years ago. Before the apocalypse, and before I was in the Military. After my tour of duty in Iraq, I came back to the U.S, and this happened." I was referring "this" to the zombie outbreak. "I barely made it to Missouri with my life... then I joined up with my brother and some other survivors." He nodded, and so we ended the conversation.

This is going to be our shelter for the night. I just hope that whoever was here before is gone now. Also I wonder about the hounds... I hope we're safe enough in here.

**April 30, 2011**

I had another nightmare last night: it was the hounds again. They tore me to pieces, and threw every piece into a fire... I know, it's weird.

But on a positive note, I found my old PSP under a heap of trash. It was in good shape, too.

On a bad note again, when I tried to turn it on, the light flickered on, but then fizzled out.

I looked around and found the charger in the top drawer in my dresser, and I plugged it in.

... waiting... waiting... oh wait, we don't have power. NOOOOO!

**Later -**

I still can't forget the strange dream I had a few nights ago. I knew I was willing to sacrifice my life for my friends like my fallen comrades did before me, but could I face having to lose another companion, a _closer_ companion?

I made a promise to never let another one of my friends go, never again. The next time anything threatens to separate our group... I will sacrifice myself - even if it's the Alpha Hound.

**[Picture 50 - ZOMBIE SIGNS]** drawings/d/1Skxf96vBJdXbN-m0SGrCECp10KhXFvwwhOlK6CQwfW8/edit

**May 1, 2011**

I still couldn't sleep because of my nightmares. I decided after multiple attempts and only a couple hours of sleep that I would just submit. I had a lot of free time to think. Trying to imagine a better place than where I currently was at seemed to calm myself, until I remembered where exactly I was: home. Yet, it isn't home anymore. None of my family members still resided here, and the hounds were tearing it ap -

Low growls came from outside. Next came the tearing of wood, coupled with some whimpers and yelps. I peered around the corner of the room in which we were staying, and just behind the barricaded door were two frizzle-haired hounds destroying our defences.

I hastily clutched my loaded rifle, and flipped the safety switch to "FIRE". I leapt out of the room and into the mini hallway leading to the door; looking back, I pronounced: "Everyone get up! They're breaking through!" Startled awake, my companions grabbed their guns and joined me in the fight.

Guns a blazin', the brutes were no match for our awesome firepower. We slew many a beast, though their numbers were great, and our ammo so low. Alas, after a time of victorious slaughteration, they obliterated the barricades.

"We have to get outta' here before they engulf us!" Dusk inquired.

"We can't manage but a few hundred feet before they catch up to us," Tom explained. "We were lucky to escape in the woods."

"So," I said as the zombie-dogs were climbing in. "There's no way of escaping... unless..." I knew what had to be done - a sacrifice. I continued: "I'll hold them off!" Everyone get out of here!"

My brother tried to protest, but I shook my head. "It's my time to leave;" I reached in my shirt and yanked my military dog tags off, which I gave to my brother. "I'll wait for you in the next life," I managed to say as my companions saluted me before leaving. But - my ammo was exhausted.

The hounds were almost in now, so I went into action. Grabbing empty glass bottles, I stuck three between my fingers near my knuckles, and taped them securely, with the openings touching my palm, and my hand enclosed in a tight fist; I did this with my right hand. With my left I held my knife.

An enormous dark gray mass clashed through the door; his bulk was far greater than that of any other hound - this was the Alpha. His bloodshot eyes stared deep inside of me. I could almost see him atop me. thrashing at my throat like a rag-doll. But I stood my ground.

He snarled, but I stood firm, even as the others surrounded me. The Alpha slowly paced towards me, reluctant to get this over with.

I saw this, and with a commanding tone, I roared: "YOU SHALL NOT PASS!" And with that I shattered the bottles on the corner of a wall, creating a razor-sharp glass melee weapon that was attached to my right hand.

The beast halted. He growled again, his fangs showing. He knelt down, ready to pounce. I half-way crouched, also prepared to attack. Our eyes locked, focused on each other.

Simultaneously, not a heartbeat later, we pounced.

**Afterward**

I opened my eyes. "_Am I dead?"_ I thought. Looking at my bloodied hands and the mess around me assured me that I was in fact still alive. I was stiff, but I managed to get up.

A lone growl sounded behind me. I turned cautiously, and there it was. "Come on," I muttered, trying to sound taunting, but feeling ever more weak. I began limping towards it, but I tripped on the Alpha Hound's carcass. "Oof!" I clutched my ribs, apparently bruised from the battle.

It sprang, but before its jaw was around my neck, a buckshot went off, momentarily deafening me. Flipping over, to my disbelief I saw a smoking shotgun barrel; but the surprising part was not the shotgun itself, but who held it.

Two familiar faces stood above: The one with the shotgun was a bearded, scruffy looking biker dude, and the other was a black, bald man with a white shirt and a red tie. Yes, Francis and Louis had somehow survived.

To make things really short, after days of searching, we found the rest of our crew. After a few weeks of travelling, we reached the capital, Jefferson City. A refuge was in place, only less hostile than the first. We are now able to distribute cures in growing numbers until, with other colonies and friendly survivors, we will be able to cure EVERYONE.

**THE END**

_For real this time._


	4. References and Due Credit

**References and Due Credit**

You may have noticed some of the many references I've made in the story. Some are noticeable, and others are subtle. But just in case you may have missed a few, here's ALL of them (hopefully):

_**Left For Dead**_ - My biggest inspiration for this journal is _Valve_'s zombie survival horror: "two weeks"; med pack; The Hospital; the elevator; pain pills; Molotov; Witch; "flashlights off"; The Church; safe house; Luis (Louis); The Gas Station; The Lake; pipe bomb, mini-guns, radio, auto-shotgun, assault rifle, SMG, sniper rifle; Smoker; Rescue Boat; Francis; "lawn mower mess"; zombie picture; gun flashlights; propane tank; "better safe than sorry"; The Farmland; The Swamp, mudmen; Tank; Rescue Helicopter; "The Sacrifice" Molotov throw; "Run like 'heck'!"; LED lantern, sleeping bags; sacrifice; Boomer; Hunter; I also used William "Bill" Overbeck as a format for my character, Fox

_**My Name Is America**_ **books** - The format of this journal is highly inspired by some of these books, mainly _The Journal of Patrick Seamus Flaherty_; nicknames "Boot", "Mighty Mouse", canned ham and Lima beans

**friends' help** - My brother _Benjamin_, along with my friends _Allen_ and _Andy_, created their own profiles; also our code names were inspired by: Fox/Star Fox, Snake/Metal Gear, Dusk/time of day, Shadow [Storm]/stealthiness; Seth is another one of my friends

_**The Tragedy of Romeo and Juliet**_ - _William Shakespeare_'s fifteenth century play: "the fatal loins"

_**The Zombie Survival Guide**_ - _Max Brooks_' note (the last sentence is mine)

_**Forrest Gump**_ - I obtained inspiration for a character from Tom Hanks' character

_**Portal**_ - Another of _Valve_'s games: lying cake, bizarre dream, cake

_**Call of Duty: Black Ops**_ - _Treyarch_'s first-person shooter includes a zombie's mode, which gave me some ideas: Tank Dempsey's "flesh addicts!"; Crawler Zombie; Sergei; "prepare yourselves, men"; Dmitri "Reznov"; hounds

_**The Last of Us**_ - _Naughty Dog_'s survival game: although it was not released at the time of writing (not typing) this, it helped me with the idea for the suppressing fortification camp and hostile soldiers

_**Uncharted**_ (series) - Another of _Naughty Dog_'s games: the stealth neck snap

_**The Hunger Games**_ - _Suzanne Collins_' novel and _Lionsgate_'s film: the "Reaping"

_**The Last Stand**_ - _Con Artist_'s The Last Stand game title

_**Borderlands 2**_ - _Gearbox_'s looter-shooter game: Marcus Munitions "gun at your side"

_**Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 3**_ - A first-person shooter developed by _Infinity Ward_ and _Sledgehammer Games_: Yuri ex-Spetsnaz

_**The Lord of the Rings**_ - _J.R.R. Tolkien_'s EPIC fantasy books and _Peter Jackson_'s film: "make haste"; "Destroy it!"; "SHALL NOT PASS!"

_**The Grey**_ - A thriller (with _Liam Neeson_) that inspired me; head toss; Alpha Hound; glass knuckles; end fight scene; _Into the Fray_ poem

_**Star Wars Episode 2: Attack of the Clones**_ - A _Lucasfilm_: Anakin's "takin' 'em NOW!"

_**My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic**_ - _Hasbro_'s animated cartoon series on _The Hub_ channel... in a book about zombies? Yes, it's true. _Why_ did I do it? Several reasons, but that would probably take up another five pages: "Sleepless in Ponyville"scene with Princess Luna

**Credits**

_Author: _Daniel L.

_Co-Author: _Benjamin L.

_Illustrator: _Benjamin L.

_Co-Illustrator: _Daniel L.

_Editor: _Benjamin L.

_Co-Editor: _Allen S.

**Cast:**

Fox: Daniel L.

Snake: Benjamin L.

Dusk: Allen S.

Shadow: Andy H.

Seth: himself

Francis: himself

Tom: himself

Dmitri: Reznov (died in Vorkuta)

Sergei: himself

Yuri: himself

Computerized Mechanical Female Voice: GLaDOS

Commanding Officer: Lieutenant [CLASSIFIED]

Princess of the Night: Princess Luna

Over 9,000 zombies were harmed in the making of this journal.

Also, if you would like to view all of the pictures, as well as play the interactive game, use this as the end of your link: ?usp=docs_home&authuser=0#folders/0B9r0cEIQet7HSVBYOFdSRjZfMDg

Contact for Questions, Comments, Concerns, or Whatever, just comment on my story.

Thanks for reading! I sincerely hope this story touched you heart (not your brainz). Writing this journal took me from the date of the first journal entry (February 28, 2011) until today (when I'm typing this) on July 8, 2014; that's 1,227 days (or 3 years, 4 months, and 11 days, including today, but mostly I only wrote a paragraph or two every month)! This journal is dedicated to all of the people who inspired my references, and to all of my friends and family who supported me during this story, especially my twin brother, Benjamin, and my friends Allen and Andy.


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